Page 15 of Misdeeds of a Billionaire
“Marriage is bliss… I hear,” Winston offered, grinning widely.
“Then get married, Winston,” I said tonelessly.
There were so many fucking days lately that I could barely tolerate him. But he was my brother, so I had an obligation.
“I’d marryher,” my brother egged on, tilting his chin in Odette’s direction. “Those eyes with flecks of gold. That smile.Anda future doctor? Fuck, I could stop working and she’d support me.”
Winston had enough money to last him ten lifetimes.
Not that I’d ever let him get within two feet of Odette Swan. That woman ticked all the boxes for me. Sharp mind. A petite frame. Eyes that I could get lost in. There was something idealistic and angelic about her, even when she was being snarky.
Yes, I was attracted to her. I knew from the first words she’d spoken that I was a goner, but could I be blamed? She was beautiful, smart, and had a spine of steel.
My gaze strayed back to the woman. Something about her tugged at me. I couldn’t pinpoint what. Maybe it was the vulnerability in her gaze. Or maybe it was the loneliness I could see her trying to hide behind her big smile—something I knew about intimately.
I watched her dance with her sister, throwing her hands up in the air, her face glowing with laughter and mischief. And her hips, the way they swayed, it was hard to tear my eyes from her.
My gaze traveled over her smooth, bare legs. Blood heated in my veins, my cock hardened, and my fingers itched to touch her skin. I wondered if her waist-length hair was as soft as it looked. Fuck, lusting after a woman. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before.
The responsible professional from the hospital was nowhere to be found. In its place was a sensual young woman who knew exactly what she was doing.
She looked good. Beautiful. She was dressed down compared to other women in this place, but it only made her stand out more. Maybe it was exactly that which I liked about her. I might as well admit it.
I liked her. The years between us be damned.
A guy next to her shouted, “Nice ass. Move faster, I don’t have all night.”
She didn’t even spare him a glance, flipping him off over her shoulder. I strode over to him casually, then smacked the fucker upside the head. I turned my attention back to her. Our eyes met, but she continued moving. Slower. More sensual.
Mischief danced in her eyes. Time stood still. I waited. For what, I didn’t know. But then someone bumped into her and the moment was lost. Shrugging her shoulder, as if dismissing me, she headed for the bar. I watched her speak to the bartender just as a frat-looking Frenchman grabbed her ass.
Couldn’t this woman go a single minute without men falling all over themselves for her?
My shoulders tensed and I prowled through the crowd the next second. Something dark coiled in my stomach. I watched him lean into her—completely ignoring her personal space—and then whisper something in her ear. She reached for his hand and removed it off her ass, but the fucker obviously wasn’t getting the hint.
He reached for her, his face twisting into a scowl, but before he could touch her, I lunged for his wrist and twisted it.
“I believe the lady said no.” I stared down at him through my rage.
This fucker had one of those model-perfect faces, but the arrogance in his expression ruined it completely.
“She’s my girlfriend.”
I stilled, but before I could say anything and turn this relationship to ash, Odette hissed icily, “Ex-girlfriend.”
Thank fuck.
I’d have hated to be in my thirties resorting to filthy methods to break up a couple. From the conversation with her sister I’d overheard, I knew plenty. This guy wasn’t good enough for her.
Odette stared him down. “I told you before, I don’t do do-overs. For anything or anyone. Don’t fucking bother me anymore.”
Iciness radiated from her every word and every pore. This woman was impressive. No fucking wonder I liked her.
“You heard the lady,” I said, my tone rivaling Odette’s arctic one. “Get fucking lost.”
He scoffed. “She’s just playing hard to get,” he muttered. “Fucking cunt.”
My expression went from agitated to homicidal. I grabbed him by his cheap T-shirt and tossed him onto the ground. Then, my hand wrapped around his throat, and I tightened my hold. A whimper squeezed past his lips. So I squeezed a bit more. I was just about to throw in a punch and ruin that pretty model face when soft, cool fingers wrapped around my bicep.
